


Nygmobblepot Week 2017 Collection

by Johnlocked221b



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: AU/Crossover, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Clones, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Hurt, M/M, Murder Husbands, Nygmobblepot, Nygmobblepot Week 2017, Regret
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2018-12-31 05:03:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12125103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnlocked221b/pseuds/Johnlocked221b
Summary: Just a collection of my works involved in Nygmobblepot Week 2017.





	1. Day 1- Murder Husbands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every year, on October 21st, bodies begin showing up in Gotham's underbelly.

After getting married, the Nygma-Cobblepot’s were relatively quiet and complacent in their marital bliss. They lived happily and independently, working every-day jobs and coming home to each other in the evenings. It was the American dream, except instead of 2.5 kids and a white picket fence; it was a vast criminal empire and an 8,000 square-foot estate. They were the richest and most powerful. The elite looked to them and their names were spoken with respect and admiration. Even the great Bruce Wayne came to dinner occasionally.

 

You could not have one without the other. Edward and Oswald, per anyone who knew them, were deeply in love and were not afraid to shout it to the world. In fact, showing Edward off was one of Mayor Cobblepot’s favorite past-times. Whether it be at charity balls, romantic dinners, or even at the grocery, Oswald was always extremely proud to have Edward on his arm; and Edward, equally so.

 

The scandalous nature of their employer-employee relationship was quickly snuffed out when Gotham’s people began to see just how in love they were. Gotham’s gossip magazines quickly began changing their attitudes from something of great shame and infamy to one of adoration and excitement, especially when the esteemed couple announced their engagement. As such, they quickly became not only city officials, but also celebrities in the judgmental eyes of the Gotham public.

 

They became the face of a happy, thriving relationship. Business partners and life partners, all wrapped together in one happily married bundle.

 

When October 21st rolled around, everything changed. Gotham began naming the day ‘Lover’s Halloween.’ It was the one day of the year in which that happy couple unleashed their rage upon the city. Bodies began popping up around Gotham, usually with messages attached or inside of wounds. The GCPD knew exactly who these bodies belonged to, but were never able to pin them down, due to a severe lack of physical evidence linking the couple to the crime.

 

Jim sighed as he pulled a small, rolled-up piece of paper from the knife-wound on the stomach of a middle-aged man. “I overheard this sorry excuse for a father call his young son an idiot. I couldn’t stop thinking about what you told me. It will never happen again. You have my word.”

 

“What do you got, Jimbo?” Bullock asked, hands in his pockets. He only took one out to take the message and read it. “Jesus…not this again. We all know who’s doin’ this. Why can’t we just bring ‘em in?”

 

Jim sighed deeply. “We’ve tried Harv. These bodies are so clean you could eat off of them…metaphorically speaking.”

 

Harvey grumbled but tossed the paper back at Jim’s chest. “One day, those two will slip up.”

 

Jim shrugged. “Until then, let’s get this to Valerie. Or more will start popping up.”

 

***

That night, Oswald and Edward lay together in bed, wrapped around one another as the television flashed light against the walls of their bedroom. Suddenly, Oswald gasped and sat up, using the remote to increase the volume.

 

“…several notes and messages within the bodies, addressed to one another. Each message is addressed to either ‘P’ or ‘R’ and tells the story of lovers living in the shadows of Gotham. Some are carved into their victims, and others, like this one, are simply written.

 

‘My Dearest R. What would I be without you? Most likely, this man in which this note was stuffed, or someone having suffered a similar fate. We’ve done many things together, you and I, and this day of annual celebration is among the best. Love, P.’

 

"This is now the sixth year in a string of annual anniversary killings, and the killers remain at large, leaving the people of Gotham asking ‘When will their reign of terror end?’”

 

Ed held onto Oswald tighter and kissed his temple. “Hopefully not for a long, long while.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I took this prompt quite literally. This is certainly not among my best work, but I wasn't too sure how to properly flesh it out.


	2. Day 2- AU/Crossover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed wakes up cold and alone in someone's lab, with no memory of the last three months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mine's a close-to-canon AU. By that, I mean that this could still be a plausible explanation for Isabella's character and Ed's drastic character change imo. Enjoy!

When Edward opened his eyes, everything was a blur. His head hurt and his body ached with the feeling of having been in one, unnatural position for too long. The first thing that came to his mind was Oswald. _Oswald_. _I have plans with Oswald. Wine for Oswald._

He tried to move, but found it difficult. He was inside some kind of glass tube, and he was naked. A single fluorescent light hung by its cords, flashing and flickering and increasing Ed’s anxiety as everything else was just a series of dark, blurry masses. Ed felt around the edge of the tube for anything he could grab and open. Soon, the pads of his fingers found a crack in the glass and he scrambled to try and pry it open. After a few futile attempts, his fingers began aching and Ed really panicked, hitting the glass with his palms and screaming for help.

Edward finally realized it was useless. No one was coming to save him. No one could hear him. Ed closed his eyes and thought, tapping his temple with his middle finger and trying to calm his breathing.

 

He was _breathing_. There was oxygen coming into the tube somehow. Ed’s eyes snapped open and he looked up. His hands searched for anything along the top that could be bringing in oxygen. To his disappointment, there were no tubes or openings so he looked down. His hands felt around the wet and sticky floor and he hissed when pain blossomed in his right index finger and he saw red bubble up on his skin. Something had cut him. That meant the glass had been broken toward the bottom of the tube. There was a hole and it was letting in oxygen.

 

Carefully, Ed felt the side of the tube again and his heart did a flip when he felt the sharp, jagged edges of a hole. Ed pushed along the edges of the hole and clenched his jaw when he heard the telltale sound of glass splitting, becoming weaker. This wasn’t going to be pleasant, but Ed knew he was going to have to risk it.

 

So, he crouched down and covered his head with one arm while the other tenderly and cautiously reached over and pushed outward against the glass. He heard it split up the side and drew his arm back as quickly as he could when it shattered around hm.

 

Ed cried out as he was sliced open along his back and upper arms, but was also thankful nothing had punctured anything vital. Small miracles.

 

As gingerly and slowly as he could, Ed crept out of his spot, praying to anything that would listen that he wouldn’t slice his foot open on the remnants of the tube. He had to get to a pair of glasses. He also needed to get to a phone, but the glasses were first. As he got closer to it, he could just make out the shape of a desk under the flickering of the light. Calling it his best bet, he began searching through the drawers. He cursed when he didn’t find anything and began carefully making his way around the room, straining to see and make out shapes with hands searching as he shivered from the chill of the room. _Where am I?_

 

Ed eventually found a sort of cubby cabinet. He searched in each shelf, nearly crying in relief when his fingers found the rim of a pair of glasses. He quickly put them on his face with shaking hands and was delighted to discover that they were his own and that they had been sitting upon his own suit and tie, neatly folded and labeled “Nygma, E.” Underneath his name were his measurements and glasses prescription. _Why_?

 

Ed dressed quickly, looking around as he did so. He seemed to be in some sort of lab full of the tubes he’d found himself in. It was freezing cold and it looked as if there were some sort of struggle that took place. _Then why would they leave me here?_

 

It was as he was tying his shoes when he spotted it. A sizable glass statue sitting upon the very desk he’d just searched.

 

“He asks…but never answers.” He muttered to himself in confusion. Who on earth would keep a giant owl statue on their work desk? Who was keeping him naked, in a tube full of liquid? Why?

 

The riddle would go unsolved as Edward was not keen on staying around to find out. It was time to find a way out. Ed was surprised to find that the hideout where he’d been kept was abandoned entirely, save for a few putrid-smelling bodies in owl masks.

 

“Seems it’s a running theme.” He huffed and snatched a couple of their guns and a knife on his way out.

 

Upon exiting the building, he grimaced when the smell of rotting fish hit his nostrils. _So I’m at the docks._ Ed looked up and around and caught a glimpse of a crate stamped “Falcone Shipping Yard.” What the hell was he doing all the way out here?

 

Ed carefully made his way around in the darkness of the yard, brandishing his gun until he could get to the street. It wasn’t until he was inside a cab that he searched his pockets for his cellphone. Luckily, it was there. The battery was low, but there was enough for a phone call.

 

It rang twice and then the sweetest voice he’d ever heard chimed like bells on the other end. “Iceberg Lounge. This is Penguin.”

 

“ _Oswald…_ ” Ed breathed in relief. “Oh, thank goodness.”

 

Silence.

 

“Oswald?”

 

“If you think this is funny, sir, I assure you it is _not_.” Oswald’s voice was low. Angry.

 

“Funny? Oswald, what- “

 

Dial tone.

 

He’d hung up.

 

Ed looked at his phone in astonishment. Was Oswald angry with him for missing their dinner? It wasn’t his fault! The last thing he remembered was going into the liquor store for wine…and then he was waking up in that tube. How much time had passed?

 

Ed dialed again and the call rang once and then went to voicemail.

 

The battery icon was flashing now. It was Edward’s last chance.

 

He called again and chewed at his lip.

 

“Listen, I don’t know how you have this number, or _why_ you sound like _him_ , but you need to stop _or else_.” Oswald warned. “I will have my men find you and they will do terrible things to- “

 

“Oswald, please…it’s me. It’s Edward. I just woke up at the shipping yard. I don’t know how I got there but I’m on my way to the mansion now. I hope it’s not too late to have that dinner. I think I lost the wine, I’m not really sure…I don’t remember much.”

 

“Ed?”

 

“Yes, Oswald?”

 

“H-how are you talking to me right now? I’m looking right at you.”

 

Ed chuckled a little. “Well that’s absurd. I’m in a cab on Bleake Island.”

 

“N-no Ed, you don’t understand. You’re _frozen_. You’ve been frozen for three months. Have you been awake in there all this time?” He choked, as if the thought pained him.

 

“No, Oswald, I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“Don’t worry Ed, I’m going to get you out of there.”

 

Edward paled. It wasn’t possible. He was right here. He was in the cab. So how was he also there?

 

Suddenly, one thing became quite clear. Kristen Kringle, or rather, Kristen Kringle’s face. Ed remembered it, so soft, so beautiful. Not right. Why was she there? Why did she know those riddles? It was too good. Too good to be true.

 

Because it wasn’t.

 

“Oswald…whoever you’re looking at, it isn’t me.”

 

Silence.

 

“Oswald?”

 

More silence. Ed pulled his phone away from his ear and found that it was dark and unresponsive.


	3. Day 3- Domestic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oswald and Edward are cheesy romantics who leave notes for one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for the shameless fluff that is this fic.

Ed found the first purple sticky note on his bathroom mirror. Rubbing his sleepy eyes, he peered at it and then slipped on his glasses to read it.

 

_Reminder: I love you._

 

Ed grinned at the little message and pulled it from the glass, reading it over and over. It invoked the warmest feeling in his chest. Oswald really could be quite the romantic sometimes. It was the little things he did that made Ed feel special. Wanted.

 

After brushing his teeth, Ed took the note with him to his wardrobe where he looked up and found another note.

 

_You look ravishing in green…and everything else. And nothing. I love you._

 

Ed smiled at that one and pulled it off too, attaching it to the first note.

 

After dressing himself, Ed checked his phone for missed calls or messages and found only one.

 

_You’re the best! -OC_

 

When he fed their cat, he found a note reading _You know just how to make me purr._ The ridiculousness of it made Ed laugh aloud.

 

When Ed slipped on his shoes, he found a note in one of them reading _Your ‘sole’ is beautiful._

 

Ed tsked at that one, smiling at the simple, silly wordplay. “Very clever, Oswald.”

 

As he made his way to grab his keys, he found yet another note.

 

_Have a nice day, my love. And don’t forget your lunch!_

Ed hurried back to the kitchen.

 

Hours rolled by at the GCPD, but Ed didn’t feel them at all. His mind wandered to the notes in his pocket, and sometimes his hand did as well. He read them again and again, smiling to himself, even when Harvey Bullock teased him for looking like a lovesick puppy-dog.

 

When he opened his lunch that afternoon, he found a tuna salad sandwich, an orange, a bottled water, and a cup of chocolate pudding…with a note on top.

 

_Something sweet for my someone sweet. Enjoy. ♥️_

Ed smoothed his thumb over the tiny drawn heart and had to bite at his bottom lip to keep himself from grinning too wide. He couldn’t wait to get home.

***

Oswald awoke with a smile, burying his nose into the soft strands of Edward’s hair. He always smelled so good, even after a night of carnal debauchery.

 

Unfortunately, his bladder was not comforted by the love he felt for the man in his arms and demanded that he get up immediately. Oswald’s leg protested as he stood on it and he stilled for a moment to let it do its thing before he could walk.

 

Deciding that getting around would be easier with his cane, he reached for it, only to find he’d crumpled a piece of paper under his grip. Oswald smoothed out the wrinkles as he read the message scrawled neatly onto a green sticky note.

 

_Don’t forget this. You may not like to admit it, but I know it will help. Especially after last night ;)_

Oswald blinked at the message and then scoffed at the tiny drawn smiley face. Carefully, he made his way into the bathroom and shut the door, blinking when he saw another green note on the wall above the toilet.

 

_Ps: I know I’m the best_

Oswald scoffed in amusement and went to the sink to wash his hands. On the mirror, where he’d left his first note, was a green one covered in question marks.

 

_I can’t be bought, but I can be stolen with a glance. I’m worthless to one, but priceless to two. What am I?_

Oswald smiled to himself and opened the mirror cabinet to grab his toothpaste when he felt arms circle his waist and lips at his neck.

 

“ _Love._ ”


	4. Day 4- Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oswald fears that he's scared Edward away with his feelings for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot of works for today are going to center around Oswald and Edward's feelings post-"The Gentle Art of Making Enemies", but this scene and Oswald's obvious panic and confusion really broke my heart. I needed to flesh it out. So sorry for the pain!

When Oswald woke up, he did not immediately feel the pain. It took him a moment to realize that he was still on his sofa, in his vest and tie, and his wine had long since dried on the rug below. It took him another moment to realize that Ed still had not come home.

 

Oswald checked his phone. The only missed calls he’d received were from Barbara.

 

Oswald turned in his seat and buried his face in his hands, going over the day’s events in his head. Going over the very moment that lead to his _monumental_ mistake.

 

_“One cannot deny love!”_

His breath caught on the ache in his chest. How could he have been such an _idiot_? Of course Edward wanted to be business partners! Of course he wasn’t in love with him!

 

It was just another case of Oswald allowing his emotions cloud his judgment.

 

Oswald replayed Ed’s withdrawal and retreat over and over in his mind.

 

_A gasp, hands raised between them as a barrier of uncertainty. The kind of defense Edward had never raised to him before._

_“There…there’s been a misunderstanding. I was going to propose that we become partners…business partners.”_

_Oswald, confused. Had he really misjudged the progression of their relationship so terribly?_

_Oswald, panicked, realizing that his misinterpretation and sudden proclamation had probably just cost him a dear friend._

_“Partners…then- “_

_“Excuse me.”_

Oswald knew every wrinkle in his suit, every strand of hair out of place as Edward turned on his heel and left Oswald standing there with his heart on his sleeve.

 

_More than friends._

**_More_ ** _than friends._

Were business partners considered more than friends? Most, in Oswald’s experience, weren’t even friends.

 

Oswald shook his head, letting out a soft sob of frustration at himself.

 

He wished so badly that he could turn back the clock and stop himself from saying such a foolish thing.

 

Stop himself from scaring Edward away.

 

Maybe he was right. Maybe love is a weakness. Oswald sure didn’t feel very strong right now. Now Edward didn’t even want to speak to him. _What was he thinking?_

Who would ever want to be with him, anyway? It was a pipe dream to even think someone as incredible and stunning as Edward Nygma would want a small, anxiety-ridden, temperamental, bird-like creature like himself.

 

It didn’t matter that his mother used to tell him how wonderful and handsome he was. That he’d have to “beat the girls away with a stick.”

 

It just wasn’t so, and that wasn’t just because he found no interest in women.

 

He never had _anyone_ so much as look at him twice. Why would he think Edward would be any different?

 

Oswald rubbed his tired, burning eyes and poured himself another glass of wine. He glanced again at the front door, hoping that it would open and Edward would be there to apologize for leaving.

 

Hoping Edward would come home and sweep him into his arms and kiss him a thousand times.

 

Hoping Edward would just come home, safe, and sit down for a conversation over a game of scrabble.

 

Oswald downed his wine and wiped his lips on the white of his sleeve without a care for the stain.

 

He then lay back down on the couch and closed his eyes, praying that when he woke up, he would realize that it had all been a dream.

 

He fell into a restless sleep.

 

In the distance, a thunderstorm began moving toward Gotham.


End file.
